superbadgirl | J/D slash fic: Was Blind

This is actually part of a mini-anthology called Snapshots, the first part of a work meant to be read consecutively. I'm posting them separately anyway, because I like to think they also stand alone pretty well. Most of them are very short. Some of them are even microscopic. They are all images captured on paper rather than film, in the lives of Jack and Daniel throughout Season 7. Their epiphanies, their joys, their hurts.

I can't decide if I'm going to post these to lists as separate stories or as one bigger work.

Title: Was Blind
Author:

superbadgirl (Carrie)
Season/spoilers: 6/7
Series: Part one of "Snapshots"
Rating: PG
Summary: Daniel sees.

Was Blind
~~*~~
The sun glared down. Even with sunglasses on, Daniel was somewhat blinded by the rays. Any hat with a protective rim was out of the question, though. The potential to obstruct his view was too great, a dilemma passed on from generation to generation of archaeologists. He wished someone along the line had devised a viable head covering that also defended his eyes against harsh ultraviolet radiation. It just seemed to him like someone would have figured that out.

“Shit, it’s hot out here,” Jack groused. “Daniel, tell me this isn’t going to be like that time with Ziggy’s rat.”

Daniel yanked the handkerchief out of his pocket and swiped it across the nape of his neck. Sweat trickled down his back anyway, soaking into his waistband. With every passing second, Jack was becoming more unbearable. He was actually on par with the heat, like each higher degree was someone linked directly into Jack’s mood. And Jack was the sort where if he was tetchy, then according to the Law of Jack, everyone had to be tetchy.

“It’s ziggurat.” He’d explained that to Jack at least four hundred times. There was no reason he shouldn’t get it, so Daniel figured Jack was just being an ass. “I can’t tell you if this is going to be the same or not. It’s an entirely different situation.”

“Right. Unusually high temperatures, arid terrain, a big old building. Not at all similar.”

“Comparing a ziggurat to a wall is a bit of a stretch and it’s not a desert here,” Sam said. Bless her. “There’s a stream fifty feet away.”

He wasn’t even looking and he could tell Jack was scowling at Sam.

“Sir,” she added after a moment.

“Thank you, Carter. Don’t you have something to do?”

Great, Jack was getting rid of his moral support. Daniel glanced toward Sam with desperation, as if he could somehow make her stay just by looking at her. Teal’c had already decided he needed to conduct a perimeter check…perpetually. Without Sam here to help buffer some of Jack’s antsy irritation, it was going to be a long afternoon.

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel looked back at the inscriptions on the wall with as much futile desperation as he’d given Sam. He couldn’t predict how long it would take to translate this any more than he could predict what Jack’s next hot button would be. Of course, sitting here contemplating wasn’t going to get the job done. He shoved his damp scarf back into his pocket, grimacing. He had managed to put the stream and thoughts of cleansing away the tang of sweat out of his mind, and then Sam reminded him. It was a tempting distraction. He sneaked a look at Jack and immediately decided it would be unwise to delay the translation, even to meet a basic human need.

He could hear the water now, just a slow trickle. He cleared his throat to cover the sound up, but that was a temporary fix at best. Daniel scrunched his nose and squinted at the wall. His glasses slid down his nose a little, moved even further down when he leaned to pick up his brush. When he was upright again, he pushed them up but they didn’t stay.

“I’m going to go find Teal’c,” Jack announced.

Thank goodness.

“You do that.”

So he was alone. Good that he didn’t have to worry about a cranky friend watching over his shoulder, bad that he wouldn’t have motivation to stay away from the water. Translate, translate. Reward would be a shower back home. The stream was a roaring river now. He tossed the brush aside and stood up. He’d just splash a little water on his face, rinse out his handkerchief.

The water wasn’t cold but it still felt good. Daniel crouched, then knelt by the stream’s edge. Small, sharp stones dug into his knees, ensuring he wouldn’t linger too long. He took off his glasses and cupped water to his face with one hand. He heard splashing downstream. Startled, he looked up. It was Jack. Daniel sighed, realizing he was probably about to become that dreaded hot button.

He put on his glasses and saw Jack clearly. His shirt was wet, from water and sweat, and it clung to torso and chest. Jack's hair spiked chaotically. The sun’s angle made shadows across Jack’s face, creating a chiseled effect. Jack turned to him. He didn’t yell. He gave Daniel a small, inexplicable smile. Daniel’s stomach did a strange, tingly flip.